


The Usefulness of Coffee Cups

by annsgopal94



Category: Mahabharata - Vyasa, महाभारत | Mahabharat (TV 2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annsgopal94/pseuds/annsgopal94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know you’re in love when you don’t want to fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams. <br/>Dr. Seuss<br/>(Doesn't he give the BEST advice?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Usefulness of Coffee Cups

“Order’s up!” Bheem called at his older brother. He went unheard like numerous times this past week; Yudhishtir had an exam on Human Rights and the European Union coming up, and he was useless for conversation and most else. He was currently in the middle of his mind palace matching points of various conventions to their acts.  
“Bhai!” Bheem tried again, but Yudhishtir was absently wiping off an invisible spillage with his sponge.  
Needless to say a very disgruntled customer had soon walked up to him and snapped her fingers right in front of his nose.  
Blinking in confusion, he frowned at her like she was a keeda who dared to disturb him.  
“No, no, no, no, no,” she spat out, wagging her index finger and glaring at him with clear brown eyes hidden behind glasses. “You cannot in all conscientiousness look at me like that Sir! I have been waiting for a damn latte for the past thirteen minutes. I have a class to get to! If you can’t pay attention, you need to stop working here.”  
Now Yudhishtir wasn’t always (read: never) unreasonable nor did he fly into rages often. But little Miss Thirteen Minutes was getting under his skin (the exam didn’t help either).  
Smiling his deadliest kameena smile, he spoke calmly, and clearly, “Well Ma’am. If you can’t wait for your coffee, then you need to stop coming here.”  
Needless to say Vrishali (aka Miss Thirteen Minutes) saw all the shades of crimson there were to see.  
Her eyes widened considerably, nostrils flared mutinously and mouth fell open in shock. Her tongue wouldn’t move despite the fact that her brain was proffering the choicest gaalis available.  
An amused Yudhishtir who just couldn’t find it in him to resist, leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I’d close my mouth if I were you. The Pest’O Flash isn’t working.”  
He walked away chuckling, leaving a very furious Vrishali muttering, “Uncouth Haraami!”  
\---------------

“Yudhishtir? What the heck was that?!” a shocked Karna asked.  
“Nothing Jyesht. Shift’s done, and I’m leaving. Want to come along?” he asked nonplussed.  
“Tch-tch Bhai. Verrrrrry bad!” Arjun said. “What a jerk you were to that poor girl…. And she was hot too!” he added looking at Vrishali’s disappearing back.  
“Shut up. Let’s go?” he asked the others.  
But they weren’t fooled by his nonchalance. Yudhishtir would not be able to sleep that night; His self-righteousness (a point of pain to them all) wouldn’t allow it.  
\----------------

That night he snuck into his parent’s room for solace, like he used to when he was younger. Kunti had been reading when he came in and curled up into a ball next to her.  
“Yudhishtir Kauravya. Majra kya hai?” she asked stroking his hair.  
“Nothing Ma,” he sighed. “I’m…. God, I’m done.”  
“At twenty baccha?” she asked, sardonically. Laughing at his “You’re such a mother!” look, she made him sit up.  
“Maalish kar doon? Coconut oil is the solution for everything!” Then after noticing a particularly nasty gleam in her son’s eye, she hastily amended, “Well, most things.”  
Surrendering his head to be suitably massaged by his mother, Yudhishtir closed his eyes and replayed the day’s events. It had been a particularly trying one, with the pressure of his exam, the MUN club, the University paper and work. And his little tussle with that girl had just been a fresh topping of gobar on his already fantastic day.  
Aaah, he shouldn’t have reacted like that! It was his fault anyhow, and he had been far from apologetic about it. Now he couldn’t even apologize; it wasn’t like that girl would ever step in to the café again. He had literally guaranteed that. Feeling a weight on his outstretched legs he opened his eyes.  
Duryodhan grinned up at him.  
“What’s new with you Bhai?” he asked in a sing song voice.  
“Nothing,” Yudhishtir grunted.  
“Heard you snarled at some chick today,” he said lightly.  
“What?! Yudhish-tir,” Kunti remonstrated.  
Yudhishtir sighed.  
“Don’t say chick,” he answered world wearily.  
“’s not derogatory,” Duryodhan quipped getting up and pushing his older brother away so that he could get his head massaged.  
Leaning his back against the bed, Yudhishtir sighed again.  
“I was quite a jerk to her. It wasn’t her fault, I made her wait for thirteen minutes- she was very accurate- for her coffee. When she told me off, I snapped at her, and then told her to close her shocked mouth in a not-very-nice way,” he confessed rubbing his oily forehead.  
“Haw! Chachiji what a haivan you’ve brought up!” Duryodhan exclaimed in mock horror. Yudhishtir could be painfully righteous, and Duryodhan loathed that he remonstrated himself for the slightest of weak moments.  
“Dhut. Paagal!” Kunti smiled, flicking her nephew on the head.  
“Apologize Yudhishtir,” she said reasonably.  
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to have a chance to do so Ma,” he said resignedly.  
\----------------------

Vrushali walked in to the café, in a cloudy mood. She listed out the reasons for her mood in her head:  
1\. She wanted a coffee. The only place closest to the library that served decent coffee was this place: where she had been insulted like a tawaif in court, Mughal-E-Azam style.  
2\. She had to write a 3000 word essay advising some unfortunate son whose madcap father had thought it smart to leave all of his property to the Brazil Flag-Makers Society.  
3\. She had to see Haraami again.  
Speaking of Haraami, there he was, whistling tunelessly, looking much happier than he had the previous day. She snorted derisively, and then sniffed, wounded. She needed to be as far away from him as she possibly could manage, so she picked the stool near the muffin glass case and promptly opened up her laptop for further coverage. Soon, her foray into the world of warring father and son duos had begun and well on its way. Suddenly a knock on her laptop made her snap her head up. Strangely she didn’t see anybody near her who could have possibly done it. But she did see a large Styrofoam cup next to her laptop. In the space where her name had to be filled in, it said: “Miss Thirteen Minutes. I’m sorry :( This is on me btw”.  
Shock hit her like a ton of bricks and then her lips curved into a wide, wobbly smile. So the Haraami wasn’t so much of a haraami after all. She looked around, trying to spot him and there he was, with another man who looked a lot like him. They were deep in conversation and suddenly the other one looked up and smiled disarmingly at her.  
She blinked in mortification and then smiled hesitantly. Vrushali felt very ill at ease and decided that the quiet, inconspicuous study carrel in the library was her place after all.  
Closing her laptop, grabbing her things and customized Styrofoam cup, she turned to leave. Suddenly, she turned around and wrote on a paper napkin, “No worries Haraami (Sorry)”.  
Walking up to the man who smiled at her (and thank Bhagwan, Now-Nice-Haraami wasn’t there anymore) she saw from his name tag that he worked in the café as well.  
“Um, hey….Karna?” she ventured, peering at his name tag.  
“Yeah? Can I get you anything?” he asked nicely.  
“No, but you know the person who was just talking to you?” she said.  
“That would be Yudhishtir,” he said smiling curiously at the girl whose glasses had slipped down her nose.  
“Right, so um…could you please give...um Yu- Yudhishtir this and say I said thank you?” she said in a rush, already walking away.  
“Sure,” Karna said narrowing his eyes in confusion as she practically fled.  
“Should I give him a name?” he called.  
“Vrushali,” she said turning to reply at the door.  
And then she was gone.  
\----------------------

Yudhishtir smiled. It was the fortieth time (“SO love struck Scholarji?! Wah!” Arjun had opined) that he had read the contents of the paper napkin. It wasn’t love or any romantic notion really. It was just that Mi…Vrushali was pleasant when she wasn’t angry. Also when angry, she was quite the pataka.  
No, no! He hastily shook his head. Not the cheap, maal kind of pataka (“We Kurus are never unrefined Yudhishtir!”) but the feisty and mostly fiery kind. He smiled again, his opinion and affection toward her justified.  
\-----------------

Today is the day, she told herself pushing open the door to the café.  
She had worn her contacts, brushed her hair till it was shiny, painstakingly applied eyeliner (which had very conveniently gotten into her contacts, convincing her that she should have just stuck to desi kaajal). She had to win this war against her essay (and hey, when you look good, you feel good, and when you feel good you win most wars).  
The library was brimming over with last minute panic of most students and the café was comparably empty (her room was too lonely- no argument). Picking the same place she had picked last time, she sat down and got to work.  
Half an hour later, the essay was doing her head in.  
Yudhishtir had just come in to work when she put her head in her hands.  
“Your little friend is a bit upset,” his boss informed him slyly.  
Ten minutes later, he went up to her and said, “Can I get you something?”  
“Yes, a dagger,” she said, face covered by her hands.  
“That’s a bit extreme don’t you think?” he said amused.  
She extracted her face from the confines of her hands.  
“What possessed me to do law?” she asked in a voice that Bheem used when he wanted more kalakand from Ma.  
He chuckled and sat down opposite her.  
“Do you need help?” he asked.  
“Are you a law student?” she countered suspiciously.  
“I think I would be if I offered to help?” he said lightly.  
She still looked very suspicious, like he was a dehshat darinda who made innocent girls fail by offering to help with his less-than-layak knowledge of law.  
“Don’t worry. Got an eighty nine on my last paper,” he said in bored tone.  
Vrushali spat out her coffee.  
He blinked at the splatter of jootha coffee on the table and laptop.  
“I do have to clean that up you know,” he said pointing towards it with a straight face.  
She couldn’t help it, so she burst into peals of laughter. Both of them grabbed tissues and started cleaning up.  
“Which subject do you need help with then? Second year so I’ve done property, criminal, public, torts, contract, equity, land, and jurisprudence. Hopefully it shouldn’t be too hard,” he said, all serious.  
“Well, it’s land and property…testaments actually,” she said nervously.  
“Oh, simple enough,” he said and spent the next three hours researching with her.  
As for Vrushali, she was grateful for the help, and more importantly the company. She smiled at her new-found friend.  
Yudhishtir smiled back. She really was quite pretty. He frowned.  
“Didn’t wear them today,” she said, referring to the general area of her eyes.  
“Why?” he asked curiously.  
“Oh…it’s…umm…you know how everyone has a funda?” she asked quietly.  
“Your funda is to be half blind?” he asked confusedly.  
Her laughter (no, God, no didn’t tinkle; that would be too cliché for her) was throaty. Like a four year olds’ giggle.  
“I’m wearing contacts silly! No…um I think confidence is most often inspired by the outward appearance,” she said, feeling like a kitanu in the Harpic adverts. You know, the ones that lived in the bowl of the toilet? She had just told a near total stranger her coping mechanism.  
That’s it, she told herself. This is conclusive proof that I need to get a government order to seal my mouth shut.  
Yudhishtir was very quiet. He seemed to be thinking (shocking!), with his head turned straight towards her.  
“Hmmmm,” he said.  
“Well, then, intestacy rules are quite strict…” and he continued, dropping it like a cockroach.  
\-----------------------

Vrushali drummed her fingers at the counter. Karna was at the counter and he was giving her coffee, and all that was very well but she was running late. She had to submit her paper and there were exactly twenty minutes to the deadline.  
“Hey, deadline today right?” Yudhishtir asked suddenly in front of her with her coffee.  
“Yeah, listen, I’d chat-“  
“But you need to go, I know. Here, pay later okay?” he said handing her the cup of coffee and smiling widely.  
“Thanks,” she said smiling back.  
“And listen…with or without,” he said looking straight at her.  
She blinked.  
“What?” she started to say but then he was already talking to the next customer.  
It was only after she had submitted her paper, thanked the Almighty fervently and took her second sip of the now cold coffee did she notice the side of her Styrofoam cup.  
“You’re beautiful” it said.  
She grinned unreservedly.  
“Yep, he’s a keeper!” she giggled.


End file.
